


coming out once (& then coming out again)

by girl412



Series: assigned ineffable at birth [9]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Coming Out, Family Feels, Fluff, Gen, Genderfluid Crowley (Good Omens), Post-Canon, crowley's using multiple pronouns, finally some warlock and aziraphale content from me! finally!!!, i bet you didn't expect THAT huh, it's my house and i can project onto crowley if i want
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-01-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 03:46:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22450534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/girl412/pseuds/girl412
Summary: Warlock talks about gender.Warlock memes about gender.Warlock vaguely mentions gender.Crowley is a proud parent.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Warlock Dowling, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley & Warlock Dowling, Warlock Dowling & Original Female Character(s)
Series: assigned ineffable at birth [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1469717
Comments: 38
Kudos: 281





	coming out once (& then coming out again)

**Author's Note:**

> those of you who follow my accounts would probably know that this chapter gave me HELL to write - i wrote some things that i couldn't fit in, i didn't have the spoons to write about gender, etc etc. it's been a while since i hung out in this fandom (a while for me, which is like, 2 weeks i suppose) and i'm nOT SUPER SURE how this reads but! here you go anyway!! 
> 
> this is unfortunately not a non-linear narrative (i tried to make it one and it was unREADABLE haha so this is what you get)
> 
> sorry about the wait, but hopefully this is worth it???

“I don’t know,” Warlock says.

Crowley waits, patiently and non-judgementally watching Warlock.

“How did you know?” Warlock asked.

Crowley hums, picks up a tissue paper off the table and begins to fold it into the shape of a boa constrictor. “Uh, well,” they say. “It’s different for _us_ , you know. Supernatural entity, blah blah. Gender’s a very human thing.”

Warlock nods keenly, leaning forward ever so slightly, as if wanting to absorb every syllable that Crowley’s speaking.

“God didn’t make us with genders, per say,” Crowley says. “In our default state, gender isn’t a thing we’re even trained to perceive. Because you could argue that gender’s about perception, a lot. How you want to be perceived. Who you want to be. What you want to be. The energy you want to have. And a lot of that, a lot of who you are versus who people see you as being, that’s because of gendered expectations, like, an extension of people looking at you and thinking they know who you are. Uh. Did I make sense?”

Warlock shrugs. “I mean, I know that gender’s a social construct, it’s fine.”

Crowley smiles. “Right. So it wasn’t until I got posted onto Earth that I began to look at my body like that, through that lens. Because people would assume I was a man, or a woman, and my default response was neither, y’know? But then I started wondering what if I _was_ a man, or a woman, or something else? And some days I think I have it figured out. Other days, I’m as perplexed as I was at the beginning. But once I started wondering, I couldn’t stop. I live with that question all the time. What’s gender and where do I fit into it?”

“Identity is fluid, yeah. That makes sense,” Warlock says. “Uh, any tips? On figuring it out?”

“Experiment,” Crowley says. “With how you present, with what pronouns you want to use. Buy clothes from the women’s section. Do makeup, try stilettoes. Some of these things will make you feel good about yourself, confident –”

“Gender euphoria,” Warlock says.

“Well, looks like my darling child’s done some homework,” Crowley says, beaming in a trademark Nanny Ashtoreth way. “So, some of this experimentation will feel good. Some of it will make you feel bad, likely. Uncomfortable. Disheartened. Don’t let it make you feel too bad. It’s a part of the process, unfortunately. Whatever you feel is valid, okay?”

Warlock hums.

“I think I want to grow my hair out,” he admits.

By this point, the waiter’s arrived with croissants and coffee, and Warlock and Crowley help themselves to it.

Crowley’s phone lights up with a message, which she sneaks a glance at.

“It’s Aziraphale,” they tell Warlock. “Asking how you are.”

“Can we meet him, like, right now?” Warlock asks. “I don’t want to wait until lunch.”

“We can coordinate an ice-cream meet up right now, yes,” Crowley says.

For a moment, both of them look at each other across the table.

“Anything else?” Crowley asks, gently. “You know I’m always here if you want to talk it out.”

“Yeah, I’ll take you up on that, but maybe later,” Warlock says. “I have one question, though.”

“Yes?”

“You mentioned that there wasn’t any gender, like, on Unearthly planes of reality or whatever they’re called?”

Crowley nods.

“How did that work?” Warlock asks.

“Well, we weren’t exactly corporeal most of the time,” Crowley admits. “Hard to conceptualise gender when you and your friends are all just dazzling spinning balls of light.”

-

Crowley calls Aziraphale, and while she’s doing that, Warlock stares down at his phone.

He knows he doesn’t owe anything to Sally, but she’s the first real friend he’s had in his entire life, and she didn’t bat an eyelid when he told her Crowley was nonbinary, so he wants her to know.

But he also doesn’t know what to say or how to say it.

Crowley finishes the call, and they ask Warlock if he wants them to use different pronouns, or a different name.

 _Lockie might work_ , Warlock thinks. But he doesn’t feel ready to say it yet. It feels too personal.

“I’ll tell you when I figure it out,” he says.

“Well, what’re you thinking of, then?” Crowley asks, slipping into her Scottish brogue easily, drawing a smile from Warlock. “Can’t have my child looking all pensive like this on me, now can we?”  


Warlock smiles. “I want to come out to my best friend,” he says, “but I’m not sure how.”

Crowley smiles gleefully, delightedly. He reaches into a pocket, and pulls out an assortment of silk handkerchiefs, all knotted together at the ends to form a rope of sorts. The entire thing is in trans pride colours.

Warlock’s eyes widen. He wants Sally to know. Not the entire world.

Crowley interprets the expression accurately.

“Relax, hellspawn,” she says. “I’m not an amateur. Nobody’s paying any attention to us. Magic, remember?”

Warlock relaxes, realising that she’d definitely miracled up the whole thing, and so it made sense that nobody would be able to see it unless he wanted them to.

He figures it would make sense to ask, anyway.

“Yes,” Crowley confirms. “You can wear it home, if you want. Your parents won’t see it… unless you consent to that, and consciously decide that that's what you want.”

“Can I have a nonbinary pride flag, too?” Warlock asks, softly.

“I don’t know, can you?” Crowley asks. But she smirks, and pulls out a woollen scarf with the nonbinary pride colours. “There. Two wishes granted.”

Warlock rolls his eyes, and wraps the scarves around his neck. He opens snapchat, very quickly, and hands it to Crowley, who obediently takes a photo of him and types something before handing it back.

Warlock stares at the screen. In the little black snapchat text ribbon, Crowley’s written, “there are many people in the world who are cisgender. i am delighted to inform you that i am not one of them. nonbinary rights!”

Warlock laughs aloud, and quickly deletes the exclamation mark, typing out an uwu instead.

There’s something nice about it, knowing that Sally will see the scarves and the text and that it will probably make her laugh.

He hits send.

Five minutes later, he gets three texts. They say “thank you for trusting me with that, love you” and “let me know if you want me to use different pronouns for you?” and then, “do you listen to against me!, because, like, their album transgender dysphoria blues is like. a religion in itself, and I think you’d like true trans soul rebel?”

Warlock smiles, feeling like something in his heart is glowing.

He texts her a heart emoji, puts his phone in his pocket, and looks at Crowley who’s sitting across him and looking quietly proud.

“Okay,” he says. “Time to get ice-cream, and to meet Aziraphale.”

-

They go to a cute café with dark green and soft lemon yellow décor.

“That’s Aziraphale,” Crowley says to Warlock, who looks at the supernatural entity who’s sitting by a table for four with a menu open.

He’s pretty engrossed in the menu, Warlock can tell. And he has a nice aesthetic going, sort of colour-coordinated friendly grandfather. He doesn’t look like Brother Francis in the way that Crowley looks like Nanny Ashtoreth – it takes a lot of thinking for Warlock to recognise one in the face of the other. Maybe he would think they were distant relatives, but the same person? No way.

“You wouldn’t have recognized him if I hadn’t told you, would you have?” Crowley whispers to Warlock.

“Just goes to show that he’s better at the art of disguise than you are,” Warlock whispers back, and pretends not to smile at Crowley’s wounded gasp.

“ANGEL!” Crowley yells, and Aziraphale looks up, and stands up, and Warlock, without even thinking about it much, runs up to him and wraps him in a hug.

“Oh,” Aziraphale says softly. It takes him a minute to hug Warlock back, but when he does, the hug is gentle and firm. “You sweet boy. It’s so good to see you.”

“Not a boy,” Warlock says.

It feels good saying it.

“Ah,” Aziraphale says. “Thank you for letting me know. Any preferred gendered terms you would rather I use?”

Warlock shrugs, and moves away from Aziraphale’s embrace, so that he can see his face.

“I’m still figuring it out,” he says.

Crowley, meanwhile, returns holding three different sundaes in their two hands, which shouldn’t be possible for any being occupying a humanoid body to even manage.

“Here,” they say, distributing them quickly.

Warlock notes that she’s remembered his favourite sundae flavour. She’s remembered Aziraphale’s favourite too, if the delighted gleam is anything to go by.

But then Aziraphale frowns. “You wily serpent, I was looking at the menu, you know that!”

Crowley smiles fondly. “Surprise?”

Warlock snorts.

**Author's Note:**

> not sure how frequent updates will be, because i have so much academic work and a ton of unnecessary feelings + a new hyperfixation that snuck up on me out of nowhere?? all that said & done: if you want to talk to me about this, feel free to hmu @ gothzabini on twitter or @ botanicallycrowley on tumblr. 
> 
> much love to everyone!!!!!!!! *throws heart emojis at everybody and then runs away*


End file.
